


Pursuit of Status

by Stratega



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Rare Pairings, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24301168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stratega/pseuds/Stratega
Summary: A tête-à-tête between Blaise Zabini and Padma Patil at the Yule Ball.
Relationships: Padma Patil/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Pursuit of Status

Well, the night definitely wasn't turning out as she'd expected. 

Padma smiled gratefully at the Durmstrang boy smoothly turning her across the dance floor. He was tall and heavy-browed, wearing crisp red dress robes. They could barely understand each other, but an offered hand and a bow was all she needed to escape. She realized now it would have been much better to come to the Yule Ball entirely alone, with plenty of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons boys to dance with, than to have come with Ron Weasley. 

She could see him still slumped next to Harry Potter, glaring broodily in the direction of Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger. What an idiot. Padma had no plans of speaking to him again for the rest of the night. 

The dance called for another turn, and as she moved, Padma locked eyes with Blaise Zabini. 

He was watching her from the side of the room. Blaise was striking tonight, wearing obviously expensive dress robes and standing next to a very beautiful Beauxbatons girl. Padma pursed her lips. Well, he really needed his looks didn’t he? He had very little personality to work with after all. Or morals. 

Blaise stared her down for a brief moment, raising an eyebrow. 

He’d asked her to the ball. The only boy to ask her actually. He came up to her after herbology three weeks ago, so arrogant and assuming. She would have flat-out refused for that reason alone, but they also had a bad history of getting into arguments at parties. Their parents ran in some of the same circles and she and Parvati occasionally ran into Blaise at social functions outside of school. She and Blaise did not see eye to eye on several subjects, not to mention their mothers _hated_ each other. She had no clue why he even bothered asking her. 

Padma cleared her throat and looked back up at her partner, trying to smile at his quizzical expression. 

He asked, “Vould like you to… end dancing? Maybe drink?” 

Padma tried to look encouraging, “No, let’s dance.” 

“Vat?” he shook his head. 

She laughed, more firmly gripping his hand and shoulder, “Keep dancing!”

He grinned and spun her around enthusiastically, her turquoise dress robes twirling and her gold jewelry sparkling. Padma cast away her earlier thoughts and smiled, thoroughly enjoying herself at last. 

When that dance ended, Padma found no shortage of dance partners to fill the evening. A Beauxbatons boy asked her for the next dance, Terry Boot the one after that, a different Durmstrang boy next, and it wasn’t until several dances later that she stepped away, happy and exhilarated, to get a cup of punch. 

She looked around for her sister or her friends, but the room was very crowded. Padma sipped at her drink, watching the other couples dance. She managed to spot Parvati, happily dancing with a cute Beauxbatons boy. _Good_. 

Ron and Harry both turned out to be _miserable_ company, pining after other girls all night. How they’d both ended up with such terrible dates at the last second Padma wasn’t quite sure. Next time she’d just ask someone herself, for Merlin’s sake. 

She felt warm and slightly sweaty from all the dancing and the crowded room. Padma patted her hair, noticing the pin charm had loosened, and decided to head to the lavatory. 

Just as she set her empty cup down and turned towards the door, the tall frame of Blaise Zabini stepped in her path. He held a cup of punch in one hand, the other casually resting in his pocket. He appeared arrogantly bored, like usual, and slightly amused. His lips creased up at the edges. 

“Patil.” 

Padma crossed her arms, immediately annoyed. “Zabini.” 

She turned away, so she could face the dance floor instead of his haughty face. 

“I was admiring your date’s unique sense of fashion. Timeless.” He smirked in Ron's direction. 

Padma bristled. Ron’s robes really did look frightful, like a victorian nightgown clawing its way out of a dated velvet suit. Ron had been a real jerk the entire evening though, so her sympathy was low. She refused, however, to satisfy Blaise’s comment with a reaction.

Leaning in, he said in a lower tone, “I didn’t realize you preferred that blood traitor’s company to mine.” 

Padma's anger stirred, the way it always did when confronted with Blaise’s casual prejudice. “I prefer anyone’s company to _yours_.” 

His typically bored, imperious expression flickered and for a moment he looked quite cross, eyes narrowing down at her. 

Padma resolutely looked away. 

“I can see that,” he sniped, “Is there anyone from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons you haven’t danced with?” 

She straightened her spine, looking out across the dancing couples. “Well if there is, I’ll be sure to find them and ask.” 

He scoffed, “Oh, they’ll probably come find you.” 

Padma glanced at him, but he had already turned away from her so that he too faced the room. 

Blaise took a relaxed sip from his punch. All the appearance of grace and composure. He had the manners, the looks, as well as the pretentious airs, that made it obvious he was the product of high society. But underneath all that he was desperate for validation. He might act superior and aloof here at Hogwarts, but she’d seen him at society parties eager to appear impressive, desperate to be held in high regard by the influential. 

His mother made that rather difficult, however, her reputation a dark cloud looming over any ambitions he might have. Her numerous marriages, infamously earned fortune, and cold conceit had made her notorious. Though they were pureblood, the older aristocratic families considered them new money and sniffed the other way. 

It was a mystery why he tried so hard. Blaise and his mother must have been securely wealthy, but when his mask slipped he often seemed discontent. She once considered telling Blaise not to appear too eager with the turnip toffs, they could be _vicious_ , but she didn’t think he’d appreciate the advice. Also, he was an asshole. Let him crash and burn. 

Padma was about to walk away, wanting to avoid getting in a row with him in front of foreign dignitaries and the press, when Blaise spoke again. “We missed a real opportunity here.” 

He was staring at the Daily Prophet photographer, their light bulbs flashing every so often as they took pictures of the Yule Ball, of the dancing, the room, and stopping couples every once in a while for a photo. The champions and their dates had all been photographed of course. 

“What?” Padma frowned. 

Blaise turned back to her, a rare earnest expression on his face, “We’re the best-looking students in our year, maybe the entire school. If you’d have just come with me, we definitely would have gotten our photo in the Prophet. Made it in the society pages.” 

Padma stiffened. “I don’t want my picture in the Prophet. Especially with you.” 

Blaise scoffed, “You’d rather have your picture taken with Weasley? With him scowling next to you in those beastly robes?” 

She tried not to cringe. Ron’s robes aside, he’d been acting a total prat and probably _would_ scowl in any photos. It was a relief to be free of him. 

“No, I’d rather not have my picture in the Prophet at all,” She glanced at him curiously. “Wait, did you ask my sister too, then? We _are_ identical.” 

Blaise actually laughed. “And listen to her jabbering away all evening? I don’t think so.” 

Padma scowled deeply at him, starting to walk away. 

“You look very nice,” he suddenly said. It came out fast and stilted. Unlike him. 

Padma paused and frowned at him again. It really wasn’t like him to try to act charming or throw around compliments. What was he playing at? She narrowed her gaze, but he continued staring in a different direction. 

In the candlelight, she considered his handsome face and high cheekbones, “Why do you want to be photographed so badly anyway? Trying to launch a career like your mother?”

Blaise looked down at his cup, playing at flattered but obviously smug. “Think I’ve got what it takes?” 

“Oh definitely,” Padma smiled, “Perhaps you can find a few elderly heiresses after graduation to shag and kill off.” 

His smug smile fell, lips twisting bitterly. “Perhaps I can.” 

He took a long gulp of his drink and she stared at his throat when he swallowed. 

Padma’s fingers lightly played with the gold bangles at her wrist. “I was joking.” 

He cooly glanced at her. “No, you weren’t.” 

Blaise was terrible, but she hadn’t meant to insult his mother quite like that to his face. She held his gaze, hoping he saw the small apology in her eyes. 

He must have, because then his fingers touched her waist and he decided to press the advantage, “Come on, I bet if we even just walk by the photographer- ”

“ _No_.” Padma’s sympathy vanished, and she shifted away from his hand. “I saw you with your date before. Go ask her.” 

His jaw ticked. “ _She_ isn’t the daughter of Prakash Patil and Lilati Agarwal.” 

Padma froze. He wanted his picture with her because of her _parents_? 

She stared straight into his face, turning bright red, her anger rising quickly. “You- YOU-” Padma’s voice climbed and a few nearby students glanced their way, “-you’re always _scheming_ aren’t you?” 

Blaise scowled, leaning away from her, glancing out the corner of his eye at the nearby onlookers. When their attention diverted, he whispered, “Do you mean _thinking_? Then yes.” 

Padma flared up at him, “Well I’ll save you the bother of thinking up any schemes involving me. I don’t want my picture publicized. _I_ prefer discretion...” 

“But your _identical_ sister had her picture taken with _Potter_ -”

She cut him off and stepped closer. “...and I don’t appreciate you trying to use me to generate interest in society circles. Did you think because our mothers are widely known to loathe each other that you’d get yourself a lot of attention by taking me to the ball? That’s the reason you asked me isn’t it?”

His eyes widened, surprised to be caught. He bit out, “Not the _only_ reason-” 

“Oh the turnip toffs would just be falling all over themselves gossiping over the floo, wouldn’t they? Do you think I don’t see straight through you?” 

His normal composure seemed to leave him. His jaw clenched, _hard_ , and he stared down his nose at her. 

She went on, “Is your mother’s popularity fading? Or maybe she’s planning to cut you off when you graduate?” 

His eyes burned into hers, hand clenched tightly around his cup.

Padma was flushed, her eyes bright with anger, and she was _in his face_. 

Then his eyes flickered down the length of her and paused slowly over her lips. 

Padma’s furiously racing thoughts came to a halt. She blinked. And quite against her own will, glanced at _his_ lips. They were dark and full. Her mind stuttered, and then she glared at him again, taking a step back. 

He seemed slightly red in the face as well, for him. He stared her down, jaw set, and visibly swallowed. 

She saw the moment he composed himself. Shoulders relaxing, hands unclenching. He leaned back and took another drink. His eyes subtly darted around to see if anyone was watching. Always so concerned with appearances. 

Padma clenched her teeth. Merlin, he was the worst. She released a breath and looked out across the room, heatedly aware of Blaise still standing right next to her. Suddenly, she spotted her friends. Lisa and Su were waving at her from the other side of the dance floor. With relief she waved back and started moving towards them. 

Then Padma stopped and turned around, planning to tell Blaise not to bother her again that evening, only to find him quite obviously eyeing her from behind. 

Eyes widening in embarrassment and anger, she hissed sharply, “ _Zabini_.” 

Blaise looked up at her lazily, not ashamed in the least, his typical bored and haughty expression once more locked in place. 

He held her gaze steadily. “ _Patil_.” Then he sauntered away without a backward glance. 

Padma had never felt so red in the face. Her cheeks throbbed with heat, watching the back of his head as he disappeared in the crowd. She’d always known that Blaise somewhat enjoyed their arguments because he always started them, but he’d never shown such obvious... _interest_ in her before. He’d certainly never stared at her in that way. That she knew of. 

Feeling altogether flustered, Padma turned away and walked towards Lisa and Su. She touched one hand to her head, absently patting her hair in place. 

Was the punch spiked? Probably. Yes. 

She forced a normal smile when she joined her friends, chatting happily about everyone they’d danced with. Then Parvati and Lavender ran over giggling and told them about the scandalous position Roger Davies was caught in with Fleur Delacour. 

Padma was asked to dance again and spent the rest of the evening happily engaged. 

Later on, she spotted Blaise posing for the Daily Prophet photographer with that beautiful girl from Beauxbatons. He adjusted the expensive material of his robes, preening for the camera and standing tall. His white teeth gleamed in the flash. As soon as it was over, his date flitted away and he was left standing alone, looking bored and haughty once more. Unsatisfied. 

Padma sighed, looking away. Yes, let him crash and burn. 

**Author's Note:**

> A very big thank you to Colubrina for being my beta!


End file.
